A Disposable Man Jonas Kyle-Sidell
A Disposable Man
Copyright 2011 All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Lightning Luck Press. “Snow Scuttled in, the Blizzard of Baltimore, 2010” previously appeared in Welter Cover and interior design by Jonas Kyle-Sidell Inside art by Abby Higgs
A Disposable Man
For my family, and everything worth saving
Bring on your wrecking ball Bruce Springsteen
Business is Burning 13
smoke Poem in My Pocket 17 Even Gratitude – 19 Transcendence 20 Let’s Cultivate Joy, Need 21 The Excuse 23 Slow Turnin’ 24 Soul Confusion 25 Light a Fire 27 circles No Worse for Wear 33 The Gauntlet 35 Tension / Love Drives this Ship 37 28 Was a Rough Year 38 The Disposable Man 39 Let Any Bitterness Drain 41 You Gotta Hard Right (I’m Left In, Woman) 42 Unreality of Days 43 Windowsills 44 Prizefighter 46 Snow Scuttled in, The Blizzard of Baltimore, 2010 49 I Put the Moon There 50 Chronology 51 Let It Keep You Real, Make You Feel 52 Jack Me Up 53 Signs; Feelin’ Fine 55 The Calling 56 Salute the Stars 58 Fool No More 59 Runaway Heart 60 Jukebox Domination 61 One More Time (Redeem the Day) 63 let’s give this a shot This Dream of Being a Poet 67
Business is Burning There’s a differential light in me, pure reverence and a smattering of truth, which refinishes cracked windows. It’s non-negotiable, and I’ll fight for it ‘til my death; lent of its metal, my soul’s rock ‘n roll. Am I only here to I was trying to balance the world outside against everything else – give myself wishing you could show me! where to go next, can’t go backwards. . . Perpetually, I have something in my eye, but this love away? is typhlotic. Arrogance asking vulnerability, now, a question of sadness.
Poem in My Pocket A little legitimacy, and everything that comes undone, reveling in the very process To ride that damn thing eventually only reveals itself to itself,
like a forgetful heart,
driving onward – oh how we lose ourselves to each other! and vice versa, just trying
to remember, and recover. . .
‘til it falls apart,
Let summer sing, now, this knowledge corruption brings. Tonight, let’s let our livers do the talking; “NEVER STOP TALKING,” I, the fool, say to the coward. And to judge over the dash, sounding off means merely to assess
then possibly access, like music, the damage pushed into us by others â€“ right before I opt (rise, to meet it) through the windshield, the sky everywhere.
Even Gratitude – I can’t forget you, but I need to make something outta this pain. I’ll owe you, baby, Two open windows, and now this poem’s the rest of my life, the rest of my life
starting to lift me up: love
I’ll be payin’. Sometimes, there’s nothing left to do but hand it over – hand it over is in high pursuit! I said love’s to the world. . . She can bear the weight if she’s got any weight in her in high pursuit! These two at all. I gave a homeless man a dollar, yesterday, and he smiled. In that moment, as sunlight blasted a hole through his face,
open windows, and now – already, this poem’s
his love was greater than yours. Yeah, I said his love was greater than yours. But you showed me
lifting me up. . .
how it works! yeah – you showed me that.
Acknowledgments My dad, mom, and stepdad for always helping me follow my dreams in the best way they know how. My brother, for his eternal support. My three sisters. My friend Kishan, for always being a phone call away wherever I’ve been in the country and/or in my mind. My cousin Ben, for lending a swift hand to the title. Abby, for her newfound support and artistic and photographic contribution to the book. Noah, David, Jason for recently reading my shit/listening to my drivel, taking me seriously and not, in the right ways. Unexpected bonds, visions, connections. Everybody at the Mount Vernon Stable! I’ve laughed more in the past year than I have in a long time, and it feels good. It’s been a long ride since twenty-two when I started down this road, and so many people have guided me unwillingly in their own ways. They are the secret light behind this book, and my eyes. Chris Strozier, I must mention. Jess and Dikla, for seeing me before. Finally, all my cohorts at the University of Baltimore, and my instructors: Kendra, Steve, Marion, Pantea. I’m pretty sure this is the best M.F.A program on the face of the earth. For the power of forgiveness and the right to scream. We can do this.
Colophon This book was designed using the typefaces of Gil Sans and Adobe Calson Pro.
Information and to order more books: firstname.lastname@example.org
Jonas Kyle-Sidell’s poems have appeared in the Los Angeles Review, Gargoyle, Pearl, Haight Asbury Literary Journal, Main Street Rag, Smile Hon! You’re in Baltimore, The Melancholy Dane, Paradigm, and Welter.